Donna's timestamp giving a fuzzy memory a little clarity

At the high school fundraiser on 2/14, we bumped into one of my old friends, who I haven't kept in touch with. I was delighted to see her. Donna was one of the shortest girls in our class, and more importantly one of the sweetest. She asked Coach to turnabout our senior year 1989, when he was a junior. I attended turnabout with my good friend, who I still keep in touch with, Andy. I remember seeing super tall Coach joke around with his very short date, Donna, when a slow dance came on. He pretended he was gonna get on his knees to dance with her. 

Coach and Donna -
turnabout recreation

Anyway, we chatted about that turnabout and Donna remembered that Coach had gotten in BIG trouble the weekend before the dance. He was allowed to attend the dance - but could make no dinner plans beforehand, and had to come home right afterwards. 

Me:  Oh, really? Do tell, Donna. 

The trouble he'd landed in was major and once she shared it, I was like 'Ah, I remember that.' I'd been unsure of the timeline, so her info put a timestamp on the 'incident'. 

A few weeks before turnabout, Coach's folks told their kids they'd be moving to upper state New York that summer. Coach was distraught. He'd have to start a new school as a senior, unable to graduate with his class. A junior hosted a party that night as her folks were out of town. Coach went to the party and dealt with this moving out of state news by becoming overserved. Um, understatement. 

Two well-meaning friends decided they'd call his folks and pose as a mom saying: "Coach has decided to sleep over here tonight." Well, in a true sitcom-esque moment, neither friend knew that the other was doing the same thing. So, Coach's folks got two separate calls. And believe me, I'm sure their radar was up once they got the first call . . .  from someone other than their son. Hmm. His dad figured out whose parents were out of town. 

The story from the other attendees:  Cops showed up at the house. Everyone kept quiet and hidden while the kid who lived there opened the door and spoke with the authorities. Then someone announced, "MR. SHENANIGAN'S HERE!" (aka my FIL, a force not to be reckoned with). And kids started climbing out windows and shoving each other in order to get out of dodge. The kids could NOT escape fast enough. Chaos ensued. 

Coach remembers waking up in his bed the next morning wearing a hospital band on his wrist and feeling . . . un really horrible. Turns out his dad took him to the ER where he'd gotten his stomach pumped. 

I can't believe he was allowed to even go to the dance the next weekend. 

Flip-side:  I went to a party the end of my junior year (this was not my scene - it was something a friend who lived in a nearby city invited me to and there weren't many people from my school there). I didn't drink, and I told my mom I was going to a party. Came home on time, not having had a sip of alcohol. 

I was grounded for six weeks, because she grilled me with things like:  Were the parents at the party? 

My answer was honest:  Um, I didn't see them. 

And dishonest/creative:  We were in the basement - I think they were upstairs. (there was no chance the parents were home). 

We wore uniform blazers to school, glitzing up the blazers with various buttons. I took one of those customizable name tags from student council elections (the ones with a clear plastic sleeve and an inserted paper) and wrote on it:  EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY . . . FOR TOMORROW YOU TOO MAY BE GROUNDED. From then on, I followed the 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' approach. In other words, my mom drove me to drink. Um, I might have had one Bartels and James coolers - not exactly drinking till I needed my stomach pumped. 

Not one of my siblings was ever grounded for even a weekend, let alone six weeks. I didn't really go out much. I was busy babysitting and working at Burger King. I survived the six week sentence by babysitting for my friend, who now lives in Dallas. Her husband played for the Bears. They were awesome, and helped me maintain my sanity while living with strict parents. She had me invite friends over when I was babysitting while grounded. She'd pick up a few Blockbuster videos and order us pizza. If it weren't for her, I would've lost my everlasting mind. 

*****

Ever receive an unfair grounding? Did you attend the kind of parties in high school that were thrown when parents weren't home? Were you like me - did you babysit a ton in high school, or do some other job? 

Valentine's Day: a blast from the past event, red jacket worthy

Coach and I headed up to the northern suburbs late afternoon on Valentine's Day. I visited my favorite high school teacher for the 2nd week in a row. Not sure I've seen her since high school - making up for lost time. I brought my yearbook this time  and we looked through it, reminiscing about the good old days. She asked about a few specific people, and I'm gonna reach out and urge those classmates to get in touch with her. 

While I was hanging with Mrs. K, Coach visited his parents, who usually winter in South Carolina but skipped it this year because his dad had his hip replaced. 

We met up at his folks' house where I feasted on chili in the thermos I packed. I'm a cheap date. Also, the food at the fundraiser we were heading to - chock full of gluten. 

Next up:  our former stomping grounds - our high school. I moved into my house (after living minutes from our current home in the western Chicago burbs) the DAY BEFORE freshman year started, knowing no one. My brother Pat, an 8th grader, became good friends with his classmate . . .  Coach. 

Coach's family lived down the street from our new house. His folks befriended my parents. I'd say the rest is history, but there's more to the story. Layers, people. LAYERS.  

We live about an hour south of our high school, so we aren't in the hood often. It was wild to be back in the building. Aside from the new gym tacked onto the side, so much was the same. Coach got turned around after walking through the new gym into the OG gym and then into the school. It made me chuckle. 

Coach:  Wait, isn't that where we ate lunch? (pointing out the window from the lounge)

Me:  What? That's the courtyard. Behind you - that's the cafeteria. Have you hit your head recently? 

This room, adjacent to the women's restroom, looks EXACTLY the same including these two mirrors, minus the big hair and the fog created by an abundance of Aqua net Hairspray. It was the late 80s. The all girls' school was on one half of the building and all boys' school on the other side. We shared a cafeteria/lounge, so girls hit this restroom on their way to lunch. It was still early in the night, so there was no one in there and it didn't seem creepy to snap a quick photo. The schools combined after I graduated. I loved attending single gender high school. The best. 

I saw a few people I graduated with, including one friend whose name is the same as my real name. A teacher once called on her, but I answered because same name and she was sitting diagonally behind me - the teacher said, "Is your name Ernie?" to which I answered in my best wiseass voice, seeing as what had happened, "Why yes, yes it is." The teacher died laughing. Ever since then, my friend and I have called one another Ernie-self, or Self for short. 

Self brought her elderly mom (she's 90!), who used to teach in the school. About half of her 7 siblings were there too. Her sister was in charge of running the Irish Pub (every classroom is turned into a bar or a comedy club, etc.), so we made a beeline for the Irish Pub room. Not surprising, that was the hot spot.

I wore my new red jacket
with dark jeans -
 I took this on the Irish
 dancing stage in the basement
 while debating what shoes
 to wear. Sent my photos to Mini
 in Italy for her thoughts. 

Coach, whose social battery runs a low after treating patients all week, needed a little push to be told to go. He'd dragged his feet, unsure if he wanted to go even when I pointed out that his brother and his wife, who we enjoy, were going. BIL and SIL live nearby and have 2 kids at the school. BIL/SIL have an amazing tight-knit group of friends and Coach feared we'd weigh them down. 

We chatted with a few of BIL's friends and the one woman was lovely, making me wish not for the first time that we lived there and sent our kids to that school. She and I clicked. She wanted to know our dating backstory, etc. By the end of the night, she turned to Coach, "OK, I'm coming for Christmas. I'm like family now." 

We packed a lot into that Friday, let me tell you. Coach says he was glad he went. I was glad he drove home, because it snowed A LOT of those big, heavy flakes while we were reliving the glory days. 

I was reminded of a few high school stories that night  . . . I'll share those next time.

*****

 Do you have fond high school memories? A nickname for you or someone else that stuck? Keep in touch with anyone from that time? Anyone else consider themselves a cheap date? 

Grateful grocery moments (overshadowed by an EF)

I rarely blog on Fridays, since it's my day off. My goal is to strictly focus on my writing (chapters of my book). Lots of you post on Fridays, and I wanted to 'splain why I'm usually late to the party. I enjoyed getting caught up on Saturday morning - all that 'figging' reminds me to seek out grateful moments in my day. I read blogs while . . . get this . . . 

Coach did the grocery shopping with Reg.

The week prior I was trying to do all the things. I hadn't tackled the grocery store, and was bummed that I'd miss the Creighton game. Reg offered to go. Then he backpedaled, admitting he didn't really want to. He ended up coming with me. We split the list, were home in record time, and watched Creighton beat Marquette. 

I'd been really inconsistent with groceries. Over break, I had a kid stop and grab 5-10 things as needed. It felt like we never managed to get EVEYTHING. I was annoyed. Then 'kids-who-shop' went back to school/apartments and I was faced with dreaded grocery duty. I didn't have a set day and couldn't get into a rhythm. Am I alone here?

Before Reg and I shopped, I created a google doc of most items we potentially buy. That grocery list helps jog my memory. Reg asked me, Why didn't you ever do this before?  

It's a valid question, and I have no answer. 

When I realized we only needed a handful of items, I took Reg up on his offer again this week. He and Coach took my google doc to the store after their workout. Boom! Done!

Coach planned to drive with Reg to his game in Indiana Sat night. While he was doing the groceries, I decided I could repay him by . . . (drumroll) . . .  taking the girls sledding. 

Sledding is 100% Coach's territory. He planned to take them after his workout, after groceries, before leaving for Reg's game. I told the girls to bundle up, and we headed out. 

I lowered myself onto a sled and went down the hill. Multiple times. Who even am I? After taking them to the gym, going to mass and eating dinner, I invited Curly, Rae, and Kay to have some girl night fun. We did a Let's Dance (or whatever) game on the Wii. Lots of laughs, and um, lots of interesting moves. 

Then the little girls and I watched the first episode of the 6th (?) season of BBS (I think the first season we watched was 5-  1st available on Netflix - Sophie won, if that jogs your memory).  This show has been so fun. The perfect length of time. Family friendly. 

 Grateful summary:  google doc grocery list, help with groceries, making memories sledding/dance party with the girls (esp that Curly participated), my lunch out on Sunday with Becky (my daycare extraordinaire partner in crime) as an after-the-fact b-day treat for me, a long chat with my bestie, Delilah on Friday, and a night out with Coach on Friday (more on that later). 

Do other people use a preprinted list before making a grocery trip each week? When was the last time you went sledding?  Also, I think we will be reworking our Italy trip in order to fit in Pompeii. Any accommodation or restaurant recommendations? 

******

In F-word news (not Fig, mind you):  Reg didn't get the Evans Scholarship. Our older kids who got rejected found out before Christmas. My hopes were UP. He must've made it to the final cuts?  His b-ball program guy hasn't  contacted coaches on Reg's behalf. After everything he's been thru, I don't want Reg to be disappointed that he isn't playing basketball in college (he could play D3, but he prefers to go to a school he likes vs play D3). If he'd gotten the Evans, the b-ball deal would fade into the background. It's fine. Everything happens for a reason. I've asked him to take ANOTHER gap year, so he can just go wherever Curly decides to play basketball. He's not on board with that idea. 

conundrum Monday on a Thursday: put your money where the hard work is

"Bonus, please." Lad worked so hard to sell 200 news cars (he also sold umpteen used cars) in 2024 in order to earn a big year-end bonus. The last few days of the year were brutal. He skipped the Shenanigan side Christmas on Sat, Dec. 28th, in order to meet his goal (plus it was far away and he had to go home and care for dogs after working all day on a Saturday, etc). 

He did it! He was so pumped. He's consistently the top sales guy each month. 

He called me a few weeks ago, ultra frustrated. One customer gave him an 8/10 rating. He strives for 10/10, because the boss people pay attention to that. He's usually 10/10. The boss guy (who I've known since he was born - took his siblings to see him in the hospital, like an hour after he was born. We literally go WAY back . . . also, how old AM I?) told Lad that he wouldn't be getting his $8,000 bonus, because he needed to have all 10/10s. 

The 8/10 happened because the couple waited forever for the finance manager to do his thing. Not something Lad could control. He ran next door and bought the couple lunch, because he knew they were frustrated. He has been told that he can still get his bonus, if he gets 10/10s on his next ten new car sales this month (In January) *And, 8/10 is far from like a 2/10? Right? ** He sells more used cars than new, so that number is tough to reach inside a month. 

Speaking of used cars:  We've owned GW,
 aka Great White, since spring of '09. Look
 how nicely my wagon and old buggy fit in
 the back. This year my gang is so young,
 I sometimes need to skip these and
 shove a quadruple stroller in there. It's
 awkward and floppy, and I so prefer to
 push and pull this duo. This
 reminds me, I need to
draft a daycare update. 

C'mon! 

Coach's perspective:  If I tell my PTs that they need to hit a certain volume to get a bonus, I'm not gonna cancel their bonus if they meet that goal but a couple of patients give them a less than perfect rating. (meaning, overall he can tell they're doing a good job, not having every patient complain about them, etc. Plus, some people are just never happy no matter what).

You know what's crystal clear? Lad needs to make a career change. He's more than ready. One issue is that he makes a lot of money selling cars and he bought a house (ugh, more of a pit than a house, perhaps), so taking a salary cut isn't ideal. 

I know that Lad has his moments, but I believe that they moved the goal line here and I think that stinks. 

*updating to add:  Lad DID sell the cars he needed to sell in January, and he did get all 10/10 reviews . . . here's hoping they actually give him the bonus this time. Keep you posted. 

*****

Have you ever had an employer move the goal line/screw with your bonus? Ever had to wait FOREVER when buying a car? Do you bother with those surveys?

two big grateful moments (aka FIGs)

My FIGs  . . . Elisabeth at Optimistic Musings of a Pessimist has started a FIG initiative. That's an acronym for finding joy in gratitude. There's even a cute printable worksheet, if you're interested. 

Since my posts last week weren't written in 'real time' (sometimes it's easier for me to draft stuff in advance), they didn't include my moments of gratitude. 

I was gonna slip a FIG into the 'conundrum Monday' post that I'd drafted for today, but that'd be lengthy. I bumped conundrum Monday to Thursday. Hopefully reading my posts out of order doesn't mess with you so much that you forget which day is garbage day, or something.  

Most noteworthy:  

On Friday, I carved out time to see my favorite high school teacher. We had such a wonderful visit. I'm planning to see her again soon. I'm so grateful for this woman, and I'm so glad that I ignored all the other things I could've done on my day off. I have a post drafted about her that I'll share soon. 

Saturday night Coach, Rae, and I enjoyed the school's fundraising gala. My brown ensemble was comfortable and I was glad, when I saw the level of fancy, that I'd gone that route. Plus I still had my brown Franco Sarto heels from way back and they fit/felt comfortable. The 8th graders attend, and Rae had THE BEST TIME. Her essay that she read (hers was 1 of 3 chosen) was wonderful. The 8th graders/parents started the night off with the first dance. When Rae and Coach danced together, I got choked up I wept. 

Another mom was watching her husband and their daughter dance. This woman is a wonderful, kind, and generous soul. She lives down the street (we didn't really know them until the girls started at this school). She drives our girls to school EVERY DAY. 

8th grade girls dancing the night away.

She whispered to me:  "You're doing a good thing. From the time I met Rae until today? She's a different kid." I was touched that she noticed. 

Coach and I couldn't agree more. Rae has made so much progress. It's hard to imagine that she's the same girl who moved in 20 m0nths ago at 12.5 years old. A few weeks ago, Coach told me, "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Rae's overdo for a blow up, right?"

I shrugged. "I think she's just kinda getting it." We decided to tell her we're proud of her progress. She's not perfect mind you, but she's more approachable and easy-going these days. The early days . . . shudder. 

We took her to breakfast a few days later, praising her over her red velvet cake pancakes. 

Coach used this example:  "When Reg has gas, you holler at him Can you leave the room before you do that?  We appreciate that you're comfortable to treat the other kids like your siblings, and in addition that you're working hard to follow rules and roll with things, etc, etc."

As an aside, I really do think Reg needs to try dairy free or something (he would not survive low FODMAP) to see if that's what his issue is BEFORE he heads off to college. People, he can clear a room. Maybe he has celiac. I lose track of which kids have had the bloodwork and which haven't. 

I made 7 layer taco dip at the last minute Sunday, because he said the team was gonna gather at his apt for the Superbowl. He came into the study and hugged me good-bye. When he was 15 min from his apt (so 45 min from home) he realized that he left the taco dip in our fridge. I wish I'd followed him to the door and run thru all of the reminders, which I sometimes do. I almost cried. 

I contemplated driving it there - 2 hours round trip. My heart breaks for him. I worry about how he'll function in life with his lack of verbal memory. 

He comes home Wednesday, because they have the day off. I told him he can bring the dip back with him and invite the guys over for an unexpected treat. *sigh*

when 2nd place means last place, there's still a silver lining

 Science Fair - hey, it's OVER!:  Friday night 1/31st was science fair for the little girls. Coach was a biology major, thank you Jesus. This academic parental nightmare falls to him, mostly. The girls' new school doesn't do computers (hooray), but that means we manage their documents/help them type/find stuff, etc. So I helped as needed.

The kids got to school at 6:00 pm (no parents, how sweet is that?), they met with a few judges starting at 6:30, and the parents returned for awards at 8:45. Coach and I went in two different directions that evening. I went north to Curly's game and he went south to Reg's game.

Curly's game was done first, so I raced back for the awards ceremony. There were about 24 kids total (7th and 8th graders) who participated. Kay came running over, "The judges only asked me 2 questions. I think I did good." Super.

I love how Colleen Martin hopes her kids to do well enough on science fair, but not well enough to do down state. State was not at all a concern for us, but we share  that mindset. 

"In 2nd place, Kay Shenanigan." I almost fell out of my chair. So surprised. 

THEN, "In 1st place . . . " insert ABOUT 15 NAMES, including Rae. 

FINALLY, "Outstanding goes to  . . . " insert THE REST OF THE NAMES. 

Oh, I see what they did there. Kay took last place. It was obvious. Kay has a flare for drama. We've told her that this school is an academic challenge. We know this. She'll hand us a paper with a less than fabulous grade, and then burst into tears while running to her room. I wonder if she watched too many made for TV movies in her life before moving in with us. 

Us:  No one is yelling at you. There's room for improvement. The teacher is giving suggestions about how to study better, etc. Crying isn't necessary. Now, go make your lunch for tomorrow.

Me thinks she's all, I'll cry and people will feel sorry for me. 

Not happening. We're more of the 'shrug. So this isn't surprising, what do you think you'll do different next time' type. 

After the awards were distributed she sought me out and did her drama thing, causing a scene. I was like, HEY, YOU GOT A RIBBON. 2ND PLACE ISN'T BAD. NOW KNOCK IT OFF.

The next day Coach and I sat her down (if I had a dollar for every 'sit down' we've had with these girls . . . ). I said, they could've given you nothing. If the project didn't meet expectations - then maybe they should've. I do wonder, did they think she wouldn't notice that this was last place? It's fine, but it was a little weird. 

She tried the whole 'this was a waste of my time', to which Coach asked in his jedi-mind-trick sort of way, "oh, they want you to do it over." She was like, NO! 

Coach:  So you got a grade last week. You were happy with how it went with the judges, but your work didn't measure up. So think about what you can do different next time. 

Her project was really bad. She was given so many chances to correct stuff, but she's limited in what she wants to do and what she's capable of doing. I think 2nd place was a gift. We also told her everyone has different talents. Mini used to laugh at how she'd missed baskets in a basketball game. She wished she could score more/be better, but she didn't fall apart when she didn't. She's a great artist though. Boom, focus on the talent you have and do your best at everything else. 

Silver lining:  science fair is OVER. 

*****

Are you someone who loves science fair? Do you have a recent silver lining moment? Any hidden talents you'd like to share with the class?

nightmares & seeing is believing & dress weigh in

Nightmares while sleeping & awake:  I slept late Thursday. Didn't workout before the babies got dropped off. I'm back to dealing with nightmares, bordering on night terrors -maybe? 

I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling like I'm heading down a roller coaster. My heart is in my throat. I'm panting, while butterflies fill my gut. I had a stretch without these, and I'm wondering if that was when I was following the horrible low FODMAP diet. I manage to go back to sleep after reciting 'Everything's fine' (over and over), but sometimes I wake in the morning and although I've slept 7 or 8 hours, I feel unsettled. 

I walked into the kitchen Thursday, and a somber Coach said, "A plane went down in DC. They don't think there are any survivors." This being a commercial flight, it hit home. All those figure skaters? So often, we'd recognize an Irish dancer population when heading to a competition on a flight.  

Between the California wildfires, the terrorist in New Orleans (a few of Mini's besties were in town for the ND game and had just been on that same corner), and this plane crash - my heart aches. So much devastation. 

Trump made the plane tragedy into something else  . . . 

I feel like this Chicago Trib article sums it up better than what I'd drafted:  

Excerpt from an editorial titled:  'There is too much to learn from the Washington crash to use it for political gain.' in the Chicago Tribune, Sunday, Feb. 2nd. 

Trump's statements were maddening. Tank was like, Why does he still act like he's campaigning? 

Praying for the victims and their loved ones. 

******

I took Kay and Rae to watch
 an ice sculptor at a
nearby town's ice festival
on Sunday. No one
planned on temps reaching
near 50 degrees. 

Hold the silicone:  I've not worn my contact lenses for two or three weeks. Working out in glasses is a pain. I can't read with them, because they're only for distance. So, I have to take them off constantly, even when I'm changing diapers . . . poop can hide in the chubby folds of their pudgy legs. Jealous of my day job? 

Aunt Leprechaun, my SIL doctor, recommended an eye doc. (My eye doc doesn't do contact lens stuff anymore, and I went to a new place in June but was unimpressed). I happened to call to see if this new place had a cancellation, and they did. Rather than wait another week for my scheduled appt, I raced over on my day off. 

This photo doesn't
 do it justice.

This new doc thinks I might be sensitive to silicone that's in most contact lenses these days. She tried 'old school' lenses, and the last pair we tried felt normal vs the gritty/filmy texture I'd been experiencing. She had me keep my appointment for next week in case I have issues, but I'm on day 2.5 of wearing them and I'M THRILLED. Also, I asked if I'm too old for Lasik. I'm not. The plot thickens. 

Dress weigh in:  We have a fancy event to attend on Saturday. It's the school's fundraiser /scholarship ball. I'm told people get really dressed up. I have this (see above) black dress that I think will work, but I also have this brown, iridescent dressy

top that I've had forever. I wore it to the auction at the older kids' school before Curly was born and then I wore it to Curly's baptism. I still have the skirt that I wore, but it's outdated. 

So, I went to the mall to see if I could find a more current skirt to go with it. Thoughts on this brown skirt and fancy blouse. 

*****

Have you ever seen an ice sculptor in action? Anyone have horrible dreams and if so, have you pinpointed if it's something you eat? Drink? Do you like the black dress or the brown ensemble? Is the brown skirt too youthful for me? (this was in the dressing room, so picture hose and shoes)